Secrets
by iDohavealife
Summary: NOW COMPLETE! I have read some theories that Ron and Hermione were already together in Book 5, just hiding it well. This is my version of that theory. Begins the summer after 5th year, then is told in flashbacks.
1. A Midnight Discovery

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books, nor any of the characters, situations, or settings therein. Pity.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry Potter sat up suddenly in his bed, coming out of the grips of his nightmare. He fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses, then slipped them on. A quick look around the moonlit room reminded him that he was at the Burrow. After spending several weeks at Grimmauld Place, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley had returned to the Burrow only that afternoon, in order to enjoy the final week of their summer holiday. "Enjoy it...right," Harry thought sarcastically, thinking of his recurring nightmare. Again and again, he kept seeing his godfather, Sirius, fall through the veil in the Department of Mysteries while his own subconscious whispered, "my fault...my fault". Harry was convinced he would never enjoy anything ever again.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he put his feet on the floor, then sat there, wiping sweat from his face, his jet black hair wet with it. After a few minutes, he stood up, groaning, knowing that sleep would not return to him that night. He looked at the clock: only 12:15. It was going to be a long night.  
  
Shuffling toward the door, he noticed that Ron's bed was empty. Well, it was still fairly early. Probably Ron's notorious appetite had awakened him, and he had gone down to find something to eat. Harry wished Ron had woken him, too; maybe the nightmare would have been avoided.  
  
He trudged down the stairs, expecting to find his red-headed friend stuffing his face at the table, but the kitchen was empty. He poured himself a glass of milk, then headed through the living room, thinking that maybe Ron had taken a snack out onto the front porch. He opened the door soundlessly, so as not to startle Ron, then stopped, surprised by what he saw.  
  
Ron and Hermione were standing together in the front yard.  
  
Ordinarily, Harry would have joined them, but there was something about the way they were standing that made him hesitate. The moon was very bright, and he could see them quite plainly. They were very close together, looking into each other's faces and talking quietly. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, only the soft murmur of their voices. There was just something...cozy...about the way they were acting.  
  
As Harry watched, Ron said something that made Hermione smile. Then, putting her hands on Ron's shoulders, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly on the lips. Harry was stunned; he assumed Ron was blushing madly (it was hard to judge color by moonlight), and he expected him to step back from Hermione, embarrassed. But Ron smiled back at Hermione and put his hands on her waist, stepping closer to her. Hermione said something that made Ron laugh, then he leaned down and kissed her. After a moment, he slid his arms the rest of the way around her waist, pulling her against him as she put her arms around his neck.  
  
Harry was suddenly embarrassed, realizing that he was intruding upon something that he really shouldn't be witnessing. He shut the door silently, then hurried back to Ron's room.  
  
"What is going on?" he wondered, sitting down on his bed. "And how long has it been going on?" Ron and Hermione had certainly seemed comfortable with each other. It was obvious that had not been their first kiss. Harry felt the familiar stirrings of anger. "They could have told me! I'm supposed to be their friend. I could be happy for them, if they had only confided in me."  
  
After about ten minutes, the bedroom door opened slowly and Ron tiptoed in. He closed the door quietly behind him, then turned. He stopped, shocked to see Harry awake and sitting on his bed, his arms crossed.  
  
"Er...hiya, Harry. Couldn't you sleep, either? I...er...went downstairs...wanted a snack, you know." He noticed Harry's glass of milk and laughed nervously. "Oh, did you come downstairs, too?" he asked, pointing at the milk. "I was out on the front porch. Sorry I missed you...er...did you...come looking for me?"  
  
"Yeah. So, tell me, Ron...when did you and Hermione take up snogging? How long have you two been together?"  
  
Ron laughed harder. "What? Me and...what?"  
  
"You heard me."  
  
Ron stopped laughing. He sat down on his own bed, clasped his hands between his knees and looked down at his feet. Harry waited. After a few moments, Ron looked up at Harry, sighing deeply. "We were going to tell you, mate," he said, running a hand through his red hair. "But so much has been happening, and there never seemed to be a good..."  
  
"How long?" Harry interrupted.  
  
Ron stared at him for another few moments, then looked away, unable to meet Harry's eyes. He sighed deeply again. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper.  
  
"Since last summer..." 


	2. Ron Starts to Explain

Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling, therefore I do not own any of the characters, places or situations from the Harry Potter books.  
  
A/N: I realize these chapters are shorter than the chapters in my other fics. Sorry. On the bright side, I think there may be more chapters in this fic than my usual five or six. Usually before I start writing, I have the whole story pretty well written in my head. Not this time. I just have a bare outline in my head this time around. So stick with me--I'll try not to disappoint. Thanks.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry stared at Ron for a moment, dumbfounded. "What?! You and Hermione have been together for...what...more than a year?" he finished, his voice rising.  
  
Ron still didn't meet Harry's eyes. "Well, not really together...things just started, I don't know...progressing...last summer," he answered sheepishly. He turned to Harry and looked at him appraisingly. "You're not mad because you like her, are you?"  
  
"No, I'm mad because my two best friends are running around snogging each other senseless, they've apparently become a couple right under my nose, and they DIDN'T BOTHER TELLING ME!"  
  
"Shhh...you'll wake everybody." Ron looked nervously back at the door, expecting his mother to come barging in, demanding to know what was going on. After a moment, he turned back to Harry. "That's not how it is at all. And we weren't trying to keep it from you, not really. It's just, with everything going on...we reckoned it would be better for you if our friendship stayed the same as always. We wanted to be there for you, we didn't want you to feel...weird...around us." He sighed. "Hermione could explain this much better than I'm doing. The point is, we were going to tell you eventually."  
  
Harry looked at Ron's worried face and realized that he hadn't made it easy for anyone to tell him anything. He had been so wrapped up in all the things that had happened to him: the fight in the Department of Mysteries, Sirius' death, the revelation of the prophecy (which he had finally shared with Ron and Hermione a few weeks earlier). "So...how did you two finally decide you wanted to be together?" he asked more calmly.  
  
"Sure you want to hear?" Ron asked doubtfully.  
  
"Yeah...once I get over wanting to wring your necks, I'm sure I'll be happy for you," Harry said, attempting a joke.  
  
Ron looked relieved. "Well, you know that Hermione and I were together at Grimmauld Place for a while before you joined us last summer. What you don't know is that she was here, at the Burrow, for a few days before we went to London." Seeing the look on Harry's face, he hurried on, "look, mate, I tried to get them to let you come, too, but Dumbledore insisted that you had to stay with those Muggles for a while longer. I don't know what that was about, but..."  
  
"I do, I'll tell you later. Go on."  
  
"Okay. Remember we told you that Bill is dating Fleur Delacour? They came here for dinner one night while Hermione was here. And Hermione acted...I don't know..."  
  
"Jealous?" Harry said helpfully, remembering how Hermione had seemed whenever Fleur was around during their fourth year.  
  
"Kinda...she just wasn't overly friendly to her. And me..." he said, looking embarrassed, "...you know she's part Veela, and you know how they affect me."  
  
"You acted like a lovesick puppy dog, in other words."  
  
"Yeah. I'm glad Bill realized what was happening to me--otherwise, I'd be dead. As soon as she was out of the room, I couldn't imagine why I had been acting like that, then she'd come back...and the whole time, Hermione was shooting daggers at me with her eyes. Not that I noticed all that much, with Fleur around..."  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
"After they left, Hermione would barely speak to me. She sat down and started writing a letter to her mother, but I thought she was writing to that bloody Viktor Krum. I don't know if you knew it, Harry, but I was pretty steamed about her going to the ball with that git--and not just because he was competing against you in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I can admit that now."  
  
"I kinda suspected that."  
  
"Was I that obvious? Yeah, well..." he ran his hand through his hair, somewhat embarrassed. "Anyway, we got into a huge row. She was sitting at the table, writing..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Bill and Fleur had left, and the rest of the family had gone into the yard to enjoy the evening. Only Hermione remained in the house, sitting at the table, her quill moving across the parchment angrily. Ron came in and sat down across from her. He watched her for a moment, turning his head as he tried to see what she was writing, but she hid the words with her free arm.  
  
"Doing homework already, Hermione? Summer holidays have barely started! What's the matter, can't wait to start cranking out 100-page essays?"  
  
"I'm not doing homework, Ron. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm writing a letter."  
  
"A letter? You're not writing a letter to 'Vicky', are you?" he asked, instantly angry.  
  
"Don't call him that! And I'll write a letter to whomever I please! Why don't you go change your shirt, I'm sure there's drool all over the front of that one!"  
  
He looked down at his shirt, confused. "What? Drool on my shirt? What does that have to do with your writing a letter to bloody Krum?"  
  
"It has nothing to do with Viktor and everything to do with the idiotic way you act whenever that...that...part-Veela is around!"  
  
"What difference does it make to you how I act? And why are you even still in contact with that prat?"  
  
"What difference does it make to me? I...I hate to see one of my friends making a fool out of himself, goggling at a girl who doesn't even notice he's alive! You don't look at those of us who DO know you're alive that way!" Hermione looked stricken, realizing she had said too much, and hid her face in her hands.  
  
Ron was taken aback. "What? Those of you who do know...what?"  
  
Hermione dropped her hands and looked at him disgustedly. "Oh, Ron, you're so thick!" She stood up, gathering her things together. She started toward the stairs to go to Ginny's room.  
  
Ron hurried around the table and stopped her. "What did you mean by that?"  
  
Hermione looked at him, tears in her eyes. "Nothing, Ron...nothing. I'm going to bed. Good night." She trotted up the stairs, leaving a very confused Ron standing in the kitchen.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"A few days later, Bill and Fleur came back to the house for lunch," Ron told Harry. "I had been thinking about what Hermione had said, and I still didn't understand it."  
  
"You really were thick."  
  
Ron laughed. "Yeah. Anyway, Fleur came in, and I felt that...feeling...come over me again. I almost started acting like an idiot, hanging on her every word, staring at her, then I looked over at Hermione. She was watching me, and she looked angry, but she looked...sad too. Sad but, I don't know...resigned. I couldn't stand the fact that she thought I was an idiot. I still didn't understand that I was hurting her feelings, but I didn't want her to think of me as a fool. So I fought that feeling, and I sat there and acted like a normal wizard...and let Fred and George make fools of themselves," he laughed.  
  
Harry laughed, too, imagining Fred and George drooling over Fleur.  
  
"After they left, I was standing out in the yard, still thinking about what Hermione had said. She came up and said, 'just for your information, that letter was to my mother'. Then she pointed at my shirt and said, 'you didn't drool this time. There may be hope for you, yet.' Then she smiled, this beautiful smile, and ran off to find Ginny."  
  
"And you still didn't understand what she had said."  
  
"No."  
  
"You're thick."  
  
"Yep. A lot more happened, later at Grimmauld Place, then at Hogwarts. Do you still want to hear it?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Next chapter: Ron's story continues... 


	3. Ron's Story Continues

"A lot more happened, later at Grimmauld Place, then at Hogwarts. Do you still want to hear it?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Ron nodded, then stood and helped himself to a drink from Harry's glass of milk. Wiping his mouth, he sat back down on his own bed.  
  
"Okay. Well, we left for Grimmauld Place a few days later." Ron grimaced, remembering the creepy house of Sirius' family. "That place was really horrible, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded. "I know." He had just recently found out that he and Remus Lupin had inherited the house from Sirius, along with other assets from his estate. Lupin was in control of Harry's share of the inheritance until Harry came of age. But Harry wasn't sure he would ever want anything that had belonged to the Black family.  
  
"It was even worse when we first got there. By the time you came, we had helped Mum clear out a lot of the dark arts stuff. It was like that house knew that Hermione is muggle-born. That awful picture of Sirius' mum started calling her names the moment we walked in. And that wasn't the worst of it. That house hated all of us, but it seemed to have it in for Hermione. We tried to tell her to let us take care of things, but she insisted on helping..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron and Hermione were in one of the bedrooms, clearing out the last few remaining items in a large wardrobe. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had gone to prepare lunch a few minutes earlier. Fred and George had been out the door and headed for their room to work on their latest concoction almost the moment Mrs. Weasley had disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
The pair worked quietly, neither enjoying the task at hand. Hermione was standing on a stepstool in order to reach the highest shelf, having waved off Ron's insistence that he was taller and could take care of the topmost shelves. There was a healing scratch across her left cheek, and she was favoring her right hand, which bore a large bandage, and handling the objects in the wardrobe with deliberate but determined care. Every so often, Ron glanced up at his friend, as though to satisfy himself that nothing had attacked her yet.  
  
It happened very suddenly. As Hermione reached for a huge, ugly, steel- toned clock, it grabbed her with its long blood-red hands, wrapping them around her forearm. She gasped and jerked backwards, almost toppling off the stepstool, the clock still attached to her arm. Ron instinctively caught her around the waist and helped her step down while she pulled at the clock with her left hand, tears in her eyes. Still steadying her with his right arm around her, he helped her unwrap the clock's hands from her arm. They fought with it for several minutes; its hands were literally steel bands, and they held tight. Finally, it fell to the floor with a clang, then used its hands to pull itself across the carpet and behind the wardrobe.  
  
Ron and Hermione carefully examined her arm. There was no blood, but dark bruises were already appearing where the clock had squeezed her tightly. Hermione drew a shuddering breath, and Ron looked at her sharply. "Are you all right?"  
  
She nodded, unable to speak, trying to fight the tears that were threatening. She stood quietly for a moment, biting her lip, then she shook her head slowly. She had put her left hand on Ron's shoulder to steady herself, and now her forehead joined it as she leaned against him, crying softly.  
  
Keeping one arm around her waist, Ron patted her head, trying not to notice his discomfort at her closeness. "Hermione...if I could...I'd never let anything hurt you," he whispered.  
  
"I know." She leaned against him for a few more moments, then she straightened up, wiping her eyes. She smiled at Ron's look of concern. "Really, Ron, I'm all right. Really." But Ron could see that she was moving her arm gingerly.  
  
As she started to climb back up onto the stepstool, she stumbled, and Ron reached out to steady her once more. "Hermione...don't. Let me do that."  
  
"Don't be silly, Ron, I'm fine. I was just startled, that's all." She climbed carefully onto the stepstool, Ron ready to catch her if she fell. When she reached the top step, she looked down at him and smiled. "See...I'm all right." She turned toward the wardrobe. "Let's finish this job and have lunch, I'm starved."  
  
Ron watched her, astounded. "Have I ever told you you're amazing?" Ron said without thinking. He blushed when he realized the implication of his statement.  
  
Hermione looked back down at Ron, surprised. "Thank you, Ron," she said quietly. "That means a lot to me."  
  
Ron cleared his throat nervously as their eyes met. "No problem," he muttered, then he turned back to work.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"That was the worst attack, but by the time you got here, Hermione had been bitten, scratched, and burned. But she wouldn't give up."  
  
Harry felt very guilty. He had been thinking about himself all during last summer, he had been mad at Ron and Hermione for being together someplace without him, and all the time Hermione had been suffering at the hands of Grimmauld Place. He had even told Hedwig to peck Ron and Hermione, and now he wondered if the marks he had seen on Hermione's hands when he arrived at headquarters had all been from Hedwig's beak. He felt even worse, realizing something: they hadn't told him about Hermione's injuries, probably because he had been so wrapped up in his own problems.  
  
"And when I got to Grimmauld Place, all I could do was complain about everything that had happened to me. I should apologize to her," Harry said miserably.  
  
Ron dismissed his statement with a wave of his hand. "No, that's all right. We were worried about you. And you had been attacked by dementors, mate. No, Hermione understood, trust me. She used to worry and talk about you so much, that I...well...I began to think maybe she fancied you," Ron admitted reluctantly as Harry looked surprised. "And I didn't know what I would do if she did. On one hand, you're my best friend. On the other...to let you have the girl that I wanted...I didn't think I could do it. I felt bad whenever I thought about beating you bloody..."  
  
"Thanks a lot!" Harry said, laughing.  
  
Ron shrugged, blushing but laughing, too. "What can I say? Anyway, I finally asked Ginny...trying to act like I didn't care..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron knocked on the door of the bedroom that Ginny and Hermione were sharing. He knew that Hermione was downstairs, reading, and that Ginny was alone. He opened the door upon hearing her yell "come in" and found her sitting at the desk, writing a letter. He wandered over and sat down on her bed.  
  
"What's up?" Ginny asked, not looking up from her parchment.  
  
"Nothing much. Who're you writing to?"  
  
"Harry", she replied, giving Ron the opening he was needing. "Poor guy--I hate not being able to tell him anything important."  
  
"Er...do you still have feelings for Harry?" Ron asked carefully. Ginny stiffened and turned toward him, blushing.  
  
"No. That was a long time ago and you know it. I was a little kid. I've grown up a lot since then. So don't you start with me, Ronald Weasley."  
  
Ron held up both hands defensively, aware of Ginny's proficiency with a certain Bat-Bogey curse. "Okay, okay...I was just wondering..."  
  
Ginny glared at him for another moment, then turned back to her letter. Ron watched her, trying to word his next question.  
  
"So," he began, "do you know of any girls at Hogwarts who do fancy Harry?"  
  
"Why the sudden interest in Harry's love life?" Ginny asked, not looking up.  
  
"No reason," he said carelessly. He waited a few minutes. "So, do you?"  
  
Ginny snorted and continued writing. "Well, there are several girls in my year and in the younger years who think he's cute. They go around giggling about him."  
  
"Oh...any girls in my year?"  
  
Ginny sighed impatiently, then put down her quill and turned to him. "None that I know of, Ron. Why?" She examined his face for a moment, then suddenly grinned. "You're wanting to know if Hermione likes Harry, aren't you?"  
  
Ron blushed, wondering when Ginny became so intuitive. "No," he insisted, snorting as though the thought was ridiculous. Ginny continued to stare at him, grinning. "Well...does she?" he asked grudgingly.  
  
Ginny laughed and went back to writing. "No clue. Why don't you ask her?"  
  
"Thanks for nothing!" Ron said as he stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
He went downstairs and looked into the parlor. Hermione was curled up on the end of the sofa, reading. There was no one else around. Ron wandered into the room and sat down on the opposite end, nonchalantly, he hoped.  
  
Hermione looked up briefly and smiled at him. "Hi," she said, turning back to her book.  
  
Ron just nodded in greeting, then he sat there, debating with himself. Reaching a sudden decision, he almost blurted out, "written to Harry lately?"  
  
Hermione marked her place and closed her book, sitting up. "Yes, a few days ago when we both wrote the letter. Remember?"  
  
"Oh...yeah." He thought for a moment. "You've been very worried about Harry, haven't you?"  
  
"Yes. We all have." She looked at Ron questioningly. "Why?"  
  
"You know Harry fancies that girl in Ravenclaw, Cho Chang, right?" Ron said desperately, changing tactics.  
  
"Yes. Ron, are you feeling all right?"  
  
"What do you think about that?"  
  
"About Cho? Well, I suppose she's all right. She seems very nice, and she's certainly smart. And she and Harry have Quidditch in common, so I suppose..."  
  
"So it doesn't bother you that he fancies her."  
  
"Harry? No. Should it?"  
  
Ron sighed, feeling relief. But it was short-lived.  
  
"I do love Harry very much, though, and I worry that he may place his trust in her before he knows her very well, and..."  
  
Ron had heard nothing after the words "love Harry", and he felt simultaneous panic, hurt, and yes, fury at a certain dark-haired friend of his. "You love Harry?", he sputtered increduously.  
  
"Well, yes," Hermione looked at Ron like he had taken leave of his senses. "You do too, don't you? He's like a brother to us, after all."  
  
Ron slowly realized the kind of "love" Hermione meant, and he felt his heart start to climb back into its rightful place in his chest. "Oh...you don't fancy him, then?"  
  
Hermione looked stunned. "Harry? No. Is that what you thought I meant? No, I love Harry like a brother. I could never think of him any other way."  
  
Ron took a deep breath and forced himself to say the words before he could think about them too much. "Do you fancy someone else?" he asked nervously, almost whispering.  
  
Hermione blushed and looked away. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Her reaction was almost answer enough to Ron, but he said anyway, "I'm just curious, that's all."  
  
Hermione chewed on her lower lip, thinking. She looked at her hands in her lap. "I can't really answer that, Ron. I'm sorry. Just let me say...you have nothing to worry about...if you are worried, that is..."  
  
"I just don't want you to be hurt, that's all," Ron said somewhat defensively.  
  
She looked up at him and smiled. "Oh, don't worry. If he could, he would never let anything hurt me..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Which is exactly what I had told her after that clock attacked her. I told her I would never let anything hurt her if I could help it."  
  
"And you still didn't get it. And I thought Crabbe and Goyle were thick...", Harry laughed and Ron joined him.  
  
"I'll tell you the rest in a bit--let me go get something to drink, though," Ron said, standing up and stretching. "Be right back..." 


	4. Late Nights and Kisses

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books, nor the characters, settings or events described therein. That honor belongs to the incomparable J. K. Rowling.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron quietly entered the room he shared with Harry, carrying a large mug of pumpkin juice. He took a long drink, then offered the mug to Harry, who shook his head. Shrugging, Ron finished the juice in one gulp.  
  
"Much better," he murmured, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and settling back down onto his bed. "Now...where was I?"  
  
"You just finished telling me how you found out Hermione didn't fancy me, so you didn't have to beat me bloody," Harry said dryly.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Okay. After we went back to Hogwarts, Hermione and I had a lot of time alone together. No offense, Harry, but sometimes you were, well...hard to be around," he said gently. Harry nodded, remembering how angry he had been and how angry he still was at times. Ron cleared his throat and continued, "plus, Hermione and I were prefects, and we had a lot of extra duties, like helping the younger kids, going to meetings, patrolling the halls. One night..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron and Hermione had been patrolling the halls for the last couple of hours, and it was just about time for all the prefects to return to their respective common rooms. Ron leaned wearily against the wall and looked at his watch. "I don't know why we have to patrol these halls night after night. All we've ever done is stop a couple of third years from snogging in that alcove behind the suit of armor."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Well, Ron, patrolling the halls goes along with being a prefect. And being a prefect got you that new broom, didn't it?"  
  
Ron's expression brightened as he thought about his new Cleensweep, then soured immediately as he remembered his dismal performance in Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the year. "Yeah, I guess. Well, c'mon," he said, pushing off from the wall. "Let's do one more quick patrol, then head back to the common room. Maybe Harry will still be up, and we can play chess."  
  
"Homework, Ron. Remember?" Ron groaned and cursed under his breath.  
  
They were nearly to the end of the final hall in their patrol area when they saw Draco Malfoy come around the corner, accompanied by Pansy Parkinson, the other Slytherin prefect. "Oh, just perfect," Ron muttered sarcastically.  
  
The two Slytherins smirked as they approached Ron and Hermione. "Well, well...Granger and Weasley, out for a nighttime stroll," Draco sneered. "I'm starting to see you two without Potter more and more...people will begin to talk." He grinned smugly at Pansy, who laughed heartily.  
  
"We're prefects, Malfoy...remember?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse us..." she said curtly to Pansy, trying to pass her and continue down the hall. Pansy didn't budge.  
  
"You're right, Granger," Malfoy drawled. "Pretty stupid of me to think that Weasley might fall for you. He's a pureblood, and even though his family is pretty low, he surely wouldn't be interested in a mudblood like yourself." Ron's expression was murderous, and Hermione put a warning hand on his arm. Malfoy looked appraisingly at Hermione, studying her up and down. "Though I'm sure you could be somewhat...amusing," he continued. "Don't worry, Granger. Maybe someday a decent wizard will have pity on you and take you as a mistress."  
  
Before Malfoy realized what was happening, Ron grabbed him by the collar and threw him against the wall, pinning him there. Pansy started to reach for her wand, but before she could get her hand into her robes, Hermione had her own wand out and pointed at her.  
  
Ron gripped Malfoy's collar in both hands as Malfoy struggled to get away. He wasn't having any luck, though, as his toes could barely scrape the floor. He quit struggling as Ron leaned ominously close to him, their noses almost touching.  
  
"Don't you EVER speak to Hermione like that again," Ron said in a quiet, furious voice. "You and that...cow...over there don't deserve to be in the same hall with her. You and your family don't deserve to be on the same EARTH with her. Any decent wizard would be PROUD to have Hermione Granger as his WIFE. Apologize to her...NOW!"  
  
Malfoy stared at Ron, trying to resume his usual bravado, but failing miserably as sweat trickled down his face. After a moment, he apparently decided he wanted to live because he grimaced and muttered something that sounded like, "orriGranger."  
  
"Her name is Hermione," Ron said through gritted teeth. "Apologize!"  
  
Malfoy took a deep breath, or at least tried to, then said, "I'm sorry...Hermione." He looked almost sick as he glared defiantly at Ron.  
  
Ron backed away, dropping Malfoy to his feet, prepared to knock his head off if he so much as moved the wrong way. Malfoy sneered at Ron, his swagger returning. He straightened his robes and smoothed his hair, then set off down the hall, gesturing for Pansy to follow him. She did, edging past Hermione nervously.  
  
Ron and Hermione watched until they were out of sight, then Ron started ranting.  
  
"That son of a.....! How dare he talk about you like that! I should have torn him apart, Hermione! I should have beaten him bloody with my bare hands! I should have..."  
  
Hermione stepped toward him and laid her fingers across his mouth, shocking him into silence instantly. He looked at her, surprised, and saw that she was watching him with an odd expression on her face. Her eyes were shining, gazing into his own softly. After a moment, she seemed to realize where her hand was, and she stared at her fingers on his lips for several seconds before slowly lowering her hand.  
  
"It's so cliche' to say 'my hero'," she said, smiling. Stepping closer, she put one hand on his shoulder. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him lingeringly on the cheek. She backed away and smiled at his dazed expression. "Thank you," she whispered.  
  
"Welcome," Ron mumbled. She had kissed him on the cheek just before his first Quidditch match, but his worry about the upcoming game had gotten in the way of his feelings after that kiss. This time, it was just...incredible.  
  
She turned away and started down the hall. "Homework, Ron...remember?" she called over her shoulder.  
  
Ron followed. Now, even the prospect of a late night with his books and parchment seemed better.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You never told me you pinned Malfoy to the wall. I'm sorry I missed that," Harry said with laugh.  
  
"Yeah, it was great, he was terrified. Anyway, like I said, Hermione and I had a lot of time alone last year. We got back late most nights, we would still have homework to do. Some nights you were still up with us, working, but a lot of nights, you had already gone to bed." Ron smiled, remembering something. "One night...she slept with me."  
  
"What?!" Harry shouted, half-rising from his bed.  
  
Ron waved his hands at him, making shushing sounds. "I don't mean that. No...no...not that," he said, blushing furiously as Harry sat back down, shaken. "I mean...."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was after midnight and the common room was empty except for Ron and Hermione. They had been out late, patrolling the halls as part of their prefect duties. When they had arrived back at Gryffindor Tower, Ron had been intent on going straight to bed, but Hermione had reminded him that there was a large reading assignment for Snape's Potions class. They were supposed to be prepared to discuss the material the next day, and Hermione had insisted that Ron stay up until he had completed the required reading.  
  
"Here...we'll read it together and discuss it," she had said, plopping down on the couch in front of the fire. Groaning, Ron had sat down beside her and opened his large Potions book reluctantly.  
  
Now, an hour later, they were still reading, the open book in Ron's hands as Hermione sat close beside him, reading from the same book and asking him questions, getting perturbed when he didn't quite know the answers.  
  
"No, no, Ron...see, right here..." she said, pointing at the text. "See? It says that you use essence of hellebore in the Draft of Peace. Why don't you reread that section?" she yawned, leaning her head against the side of his arm.  
  
Ron sighed and tried to focus on the words. Bloody hell, he thought. How does she expect me to concentrate on anything with her so close to me? He had been sitting there all this time, trying to ignore the fact that their bodies were almost touching, that she kept leaning her head against him while she read. The words on the page had been so much mumbo-jumbo as he felt her hair brush against his bare arm and smelled the pleasant scent that was distinctly hers. Okay, Weasley...concentrate! Get through this reading, go to bed and get control of yourself. He squinted at the page, determined to understand and remember this lesson so she would let him get away.  
  
He had successfully gotten through the first paragraph when he noticed that Hermione was resting heavily against his arm, her breathing deep and regular. He leaned forward a bit and looked down into her face; she was sound asleep. "Hermione?" he whispered, but she didn't respond.  
  
He sat back up and closed the book carefully, setting it on the couch beside him. He stared quietly into the fire for a while, thinking. He glanced down at her from time to time, half-hoping she would wake, half- hoping she wouldn't. He had to admit that, despite his unease, having her asleep beside him was...well, kind of nice.  
  
Holding his breath, he tentatively slid his arm around her waist. As he did, she settled into the crook of his arm, sighing. After a moment, she turned more toward him, her face tilted up toward his, draping her arm across his chest as though it were a pillow. Then she was still.  
  
Ron released the breath he had been holding, but found it hard to draw another, as his breath was now caught in his throat. His heart was pounding fiercely as it registered the fact that Hermione was now sleeping in his arms. He looked down into her peaceful countenance, and his hand, of its own accord, reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, his fingers lingering in the chestnut strands for a moment.  
  
He found himself staring at her lips. How would it feel to kiss her? He had wondered this many times, at night just before falling asleep, in the evenings while watching her study, walking to class, patrolling the halls...well, just about everywhere. She had kissed him twice on the cheek, and while those kisses had been wonderful, they had made him realize how truly incredible kissing her on the lips would be.  
  
Still staring at her, he fell into a daydream (a fact he would not share with Harry when recounting this night). He imagined himself leaning over and kissing her gently then pulling back as she woke up and looked at him quizzically. He would look back at her, letting her know that he wanted to kiss her again, and he would not blush or look away. After a moment, she would raise her hand (to smack you, a sadistic voice in his head said, but he ignored it) to the back of his head and pull him to her, kissing him ardently while putting her other arm around his neck. He would slip his other arm around her waist and hold her close. They would kiss passionately, then he would run his lips across her cheek, across her jaw line, as she murmured his name..."Ron...Ron..."  
  
"Ron?" He had been so involved in his daydream that he had not realized that Hermione had opened her eyes and was now looking up at him strangely. "Did you hear me? I said I'm ready to go to bed."  
  
Ron, with more than half his brain still reeling from his vivid imagination and the rest of it someplace where it shouldn't be, felt the blood drain from his face. "What?" he squeaked, looking shocked.  
  
Hermione sat up and looked at him worriedly. "I said I'm ready to go upstairs and go to sleep. What did you think I said?" She felt his forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"  
  
Ron smiled weakly, the color returning to his face in a rush as he thought about the implication of what he had thought she said. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine." He noticed that he still had his arm around Hermione's waist, and he withdrew it quickly. "Just sleepy," he finished lamely.  
  
"Are you sure? You were very pale a moment ago, now your face is flushed." She took her hand from his forehead and touched his cheek, inadvertently making his face even redder. When he just stared at her, she lowered her hand to her own lap. "Well, if you're sure you're all right, I'm going up to bed. Did you finish reading?" she asked, indicating the book.  
  
"Er...yeah." Truthfully, he had finished reading everything before she fell asleep--he just hadn't comprehended any of it.  
  
She nodded. "Sorry I fell asleep. I must have been more tired than I thought. I just drifted off because I was so comfortable..." she trailed off, realizing that she was saying she had felt comfortable enough with him to fall asleep. She looked at her hands for a moment before abruptly standing up. "Well, good night."  
  
Ron stood, too, and followed her across the room, heading for the stairs to the boys' dorm. Hermione stopped at the bottom of her steps and turned to him. "Thank you...for..." she broke off and indicated the couch, blushing slightly.  
  
Ron realized, surprised, that she was referring to the fact that he had held her while she was sleeping. "Anytime," he murmured, then lowered his head, shifting his feet nervously, knowing how she could interpret that. He looked back up to see her still standing there watching him, her eyes shining. After a moment, she stepped closer and kissed him gently on the cheek--the third time she had done that. For some reason, the phrase, "third time's a charm", resonated in his brain. Then she ran lightly up the stairs.  
  
"Good night, Hermione," he whispered, touching the place where she had kissed him, still gazing at the place where she had been standing only moments before.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Okay. So, by this point, she had kissed you on the cheek three times: once before your first Quidditch match, once after you defended her from Malfoy, and once after she fell asleep on you on the couch." He drew a deep breath. "I'm not sure I want to ask this. After all, Hermione is like my sister, but...when did you finally kiss her?"  
  
"Well...in a way, your kiss with Cho led to my first kiss with Hermione."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah...you see..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Next chapter: Messing Up and Making Up 


	5. Messing Up and Making Up

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor anything related to the books, movies, etc. Joanne Kathleen, I envy you...  
  
Thank you, everyone, for your very nice reviews! Though I may not respond to every individual review, please know that I greatly appreciate each and every one.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"In a way, your kiss with Cho led to my first kiss with Hermione."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah. Remember that night, after the DA meeting, Hermione and I left the Room of Requirement before you did. On the way back to the common room, she and I had a small disagreement. Well, actually, I said something stupid..."  
  
"So what else is new?"  
  
"Watch it, mate..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Where's Harry?" Ron asked, looking back toward the Room of Requirement.  
  
"Ron...don't you notice anything?" At a blank look from Ron, Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "Cho was still there. Obviously Harry stayed behind to talk to her."  
  
Ron grinned knowingly. "I don't know why he gets so nervous around her. He should just ask her out. It's obvious that she fancies him. I think I would be able to tell if a girl liked me."  
  
Hermione stopped suddenly, causing Ron to stop and turn to face her, surprised. "Oh, you think so, do you?" she huffed. "So, enlighten me...how would you be able to tell if a girl fancied you?"  
  
"Easy. If she hangs on your every word, pays lots of attention to you and makes 'goo-goo' eyes at you, she likes you."  
  
"You think that's how all girls act when they fancy a guy, do you?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Well, let me tell you something, Ronald Weasley, you don't have a clue!" Hermione brushed by him angrily and hurried on toward Gryffindor Tower, not looking back.  
  
Ron stood there, perplexed. "What did I say?" he asked no one in particular.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Ah, that's why Hermione seemed miffed at you that night," Harry remembered. "When I came back and told you two that Cho had cried when she kissed me, Hermione tried to explain what Cho was feeling. Then she called you...what was it..."  
  
"She called me an insensitive wart. Then she told me I had the emotional range of a teaspoon. I remember very well. Plus she was writing that novel to Vicky." Ron, despite the fact that he now knew that Hermione had no romantic feelings toward the Bulgarian, still said the name with distaste.  
  
Harry smiled, remembering. "Yeah, I remember you were pretty sore about that letter."  
  
"The thing is...she still writes to him." At a incredulous look from Harry, Ron continued. "Yeah. They are just friends and pen pals. She let it be known very quickly that even though I'm her boyfriend, I don't have the right to run her life, and that includes choosing her friends. I trust her, so I deal with it. Plus, it turns out Krum has a girlfriend in Bulgaria. That helps."  
  
Harry shook his head, surprised at Ron's calmness about the situation, considering his loathing of Viktor Krum. Then he remembered something else. "That was the night your Dad was attacked," he said quietly.  
  
"Yeah. In my worry about Dad, I forgot all about the argument with Hermione, at least until she showed up at Grimmauld Place. Remember the day Hermione, Ginny and I set you straight about feeling guilty about the attack? She was waiting for me that evening...to apologize..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron came out of the room he shared with Harry and found Hermione waiting anxiously in the hall for him. "Ron..." she said quietly, reaching out to grip his forearm, then sliding her hand down to grasp his hand for a moment. Her touch sent shockwaves through his skin, and she pulled away uncertainly as he looked down nervously at his hand in hers. "I'm so sorry about your dad. Thank goodness he'll be all right. But are you all right? I've been worried about you."  
  
He looked up at her, blushing slightly from her contact with him. "Yeah. I'm fine, thanks. Now that I know he'll be okay."  
  
"Good." She paused before continuing softly, "I also wanted to...to apologize for getting so angry at you that last night before you left."  
  
"Hermione, I still honestly don't know what I said that was wrong, but..."  
  
"I know you don't, but that's okay."  
  
They stood quietly for several moments, not looking at each other, not knowing what else to say. Ron finally reached a decision he had been trying to make ever since he had realized he would be spending Christmas with Hermione. "Er...you know that present I gave you to open on Christmas morning? If you have it with you, could you go get it? I think I'd like to see you open it."  
  
"Sure...it's in my trunk."  
  
He waited nervously in the hall as she went into her room. She was back in a few moments, carrying a small wrapped package. She looked at him questioningly, and he motioned for her to go ahead and open it.  
  
She tore away the paper, then opened the box to reveal a small bottle of perfume. She lifted it out and looked up at Ron, surprised.  
  
Ron was watching her anxiously. He licked his lips. "It's magical perfume. I bought it in Hogsmeade. When you put it on, it plays a song."  
  
Hermione tilted the bottle, then turned it upright and removed the lid. Using the stopper, she applied some perfume to her neck, not noticing the look on Ron's face as he watched her intently. He had never dreamed that he would want to be the top of a bottle so badly. After a moment, they heard the opening line to a song by the muggle, Joe Cocker: "you are so beautiful...to me..."  
  
Ron watched to see what her reaction would be to the words. "D'you like it?" he asked uncertainly.  
  
She beamed at him, speechless for moment, tears in her eyes. Then she grabbed him in a fierce hug, catching him off guard. "Oh, Ron, I love it! Thank you. It's wonderful!" She embraced him tightly, and though he wasn't sure, he thought she whispered in his ear, "and you're wonderful, too."  
  
Ron awkwardly patted Hermione on the head before his little inner voice shouted, "why do you always do that?! Hug her back, dammit!" He tentatively slid his arms around her waist.  
  
"I feel bad that I didn't get you something better," she was saying in his ear.  
  
"That's all right. Anything from you will be great," he said, blushing.  
  
She laughed, and her breath on his ear made him shiver. "You say that now...wait until you open it."  
  
Hermione turned her face and kissed him on the cheek. Ron felt his breath catch as the thought occurred to him that, if he just turned his face toward her, they would be kissing...really kissing.  
  
What neither of them knew was that Sirius, in a mischievous mood, had decorated the house with Magic Mistletoe. It would appear over the heads of two people if they were together and even thinking about kissing each other.  
  
Hermione noticed it first as she released Ron and stepped back from him. Her eyes grew round, and she looked at Ron anxiously.  
  
"Er...Ron. Don't look now, but we're standing under mistletoe."  
  
It took a moment for her comment to sink in. "What?" Ron squeaked when he realized what she had said. He looked up as she pointed at the green plant adorned with a happy red ribbon. He cleared his throat. "Umm...yeah..." His face was quickly turning a vivid shade of scarlet, and he couldn't meet Hermione's eyes.  
  
"Ron...if you don't want...we don't have..."  
  
He interrupted her. "Er...does mistletoe mean the same in the Muggle world as it does in the wizarding world?"  
  
"Yes, but..."  
  
He looked at his feet, shifting them nervously. "I've heard that it can be bad luck if you don't kiss when you're under mistletoe."  
  
Hermione started to scoff that she had never heard such a thing, and anyway, how could that be bad luck, but she stopped. She felt a blush creeping up her face as she murmured, "maybe so."  
  
"Might not be wise to take a chance," he whispered, still not meeting her eyes but stepping closer to her.  
  
"Maybe not," she breathed, stepping closer to him, too, and turning her face up to his. He finally looked into her face. She was watching him expectantly, nervously. Closing his eyes, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers, as she reached up and laid one hand on the side of his neck.  
  
Maybe two seconds passed before he was suddenly terrifed at the overwhelming rush of emotions going through him. He stepped back from her abruptly, his heart pounding. "Er...I'd better go...Mum will be looking for me, and...bye!" He turned away and practically ran down the hall and down the steps, leaving a very bemused Hermione in his wake.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron had self-consciously told the story to Harry without telling him all the little details about his pounding heart, his breathlessness, and the fact that he had wanted to be the stopper on a bottle of perfume. Now he waited sheepishly for Harry's reaction.  
  
"Well...it went better than my first kiss with Cho, I can tell you that," Harry said slowly.  
  
"Yeah, but that's not saying much, is it?" he said, then grinned when Harry laughed. Ron stood and helped himself to the rest of Harry's milk, which was no longer cold. He stretched, then sat back down on his bed. "I'm getting really sleepy," he yawned. "But there's not much more to tell..." 


	6. Valentine's Day

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Harry Potter books or the characters, settings, or situations therein. So there.  
  
Ron leaned back on his elbows, watching Harry yawn, then yawning again himself. "D'you think you can stay awake long enough for me to finish? There's not much more to tell."  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes and leaned back on his elbows, too. "Sure. Who would have thought that the cure for my sleeplessness was listening to stories of your love life?" he said, grinning.  
  
"Very funny, Harry. Okay. Hermione and I never talked about what almost happened at Christmas. Things were pretty normal for the next month or so. We were still spending a lot of time together on prefect duty and late at night doing homework. We were still arguing once or twice a week..."  
  
"Once or twice a day is more like it."  
  
"Yeah, probably. I think we'll always argue. Hermione says we're both too stubborn and set in our ways to stop now. Anyway, Valentine's Day was coming up. I was trying to get up the courage to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with me, then Angelina decided that the Quidditch team would use that day to get extra practice. I wasn't even able to get her a card or anything, and I was sure that bloody Krum would send her something. I couldn't help it--I asked her about him when we came back from prefect duty that night...  
  
Coming through the portrait hole, Ron and Hermione found the common room empty. Hermione crossed to the sofa in front of the fire and plopped down, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Following her, Ron slumped down beside her and rested his head against the back of the couch.  
  
"I'm beat," he groaned. "A full day of Quidditch practice, then patrolling the school making sure nobody's celebrating Valentine's Day by snogging in the classrooms. Don't even mention homework, Hermione. Tomorrow's Sunday, and it can wait 'til then."  
  
To his surprise, Hermione nodded in agreement and rested her own head on the back of the couch. "At least you didn't have the pleasure of dealing with Rita Skeeter today."  
  
"Yeah, but you got her to agree to help Harry."  
  
Hermione nodded again, then closed her eyes. Ron watched her for a moment, then he nervously looked away, reaching a decision.  
  
"Er...Hermione...I had kinda wanted to ask you to, er...to go to Hogsmeade with me today." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise her head and look at him, surprised. He hurried on, "But then Angelina called a practice, and I couldn't, and well...I just wanted you to know." He looked down at his hands which were twisting anxiously in his lap.  
  
"Thank you, Ron," she said quietly.  
  
"No problem," he choked out, still not looking at her. They sat quietly for a moment, then he reached another decision. "So...I'm sure that Vick...Viktor sent you something." When she didn't answer, he looked over at her. "Did he?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, he did." Ron felt his stomach drop before Hermione continued. "He sent me a letter. Would you like to read it?"  
  
"Yeah!" Realizing how that had sounded, he tried to affect a casual attitude. "I mean...yeah, sure. If you want me to."  
  
"It's in my room. I'll be right back." Getting up, she hurried up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, reappearing a few minutes later carrying her book bag. Sitting back down, she dug through the bag, bringing out a piece of parchment, which she handed to Ron.  
  
Trying to appear nonchalant, Ron unrolled the parchment and began to read:  
  
Dear Hermioninny: (The git can't even spell her name right, Ron thought disgustedly.)  
  
Happy Valentine's Day! I hope that you are well and enjoying your studies. I am sorry for the long delay between letters, but I have been very busy with my Quidditch training. How was your Christmas with your family? Did you enjoy the skiing?  
  
I want to thank you for all the advice you have given me, and I have good news! I did as you suggested, and now Sonia and I have been going out together for the past month! You were very right in the ways you told me to get her to notice me, and I owe you much gratitude.  
  
This must be a short letter as I must leave for the Quidditch pitch in a few moments. Sonia will be going with me--she watches me practice nearly every day. I have told her all about my wonderful friend Hermioninny who goes to Hogwarts. Perhaps someday you two can meet.  
  
With many thanks, your friend,  
  
Viktor Krum  
  
Ron looked up at Hermione, who was watching him with a curious look on her face. "Sonia? Vick...I mean, Viktor has a girlfriend in Bulgaria? Does this mean you aren't...?"  
  
"This means I'm not his girlfriend, right."  
  
"And you've been writing to him..."  
  
"As a friend. He needed advice about Sonia. I gave it to him. Fortunately, he listens to me a bit better than Harry...and you."  
  
Ron looked back down at the letter, unable to fathom that he no longer had to worry about Viktor Krum. He almost wanted to shake the guy's hand, hard as that was to believe. Realizing that Hermione was watching him curiously, he handed the letter back to her.  
  
"I'm glad...er, I mean, for Viktor, of course," he stammered.  
  
Hermione said nothing as she rolled the parchment up and slipped it back into her bag. After rummaging around for a bit, she brought out a thick book. She held it out to Ron.  
  
"I saw this today in Hogsmeade, and...well...I thought of you. I remembered that you told Harry that you thought being an auror would be wonderful, so I thought you might like it."  
  
Surprised, Ron took the book and looked down at the title: Success Strategies for the Aspiring Auror. Even more surprised, he looked back up at Hermione, who was blushing slightly . "Thank you, Hermione," he said, genuinely meaning it. "But I'm not sure I could ever be something so great as an auror."  
  
"I do," Hermione said quietly. "I believe in you, Ron, even if you don't believe in yourself. There's greatness in you, you just don't see it." Suddenly very embarrassed, she looked down at her hands, her face turning a deep red. "I'll always believe in you," she whispered.  
  
Ron felt his own face turning red, and he looked down at the book, unable to look at Hermione any longer. "Thank you," he said softly. She nodded, still looking at her hands. They sat quietly for a moment. Finally, Ron raised his head and looked at her. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and laid his hand on top of hers. "Really...that means a lot to me, Hermione."  
  
She nodded again and looked up at him. Their eyes meeting, they sat and contemplated each other for several minutes. I could kiss her...right now. The minutes stretched out. "Why aren't you kissing her?!" an annoying little voice inside Ron's head demanded. While Ron was trying to figure out the answer to that, the moment passed as Hermione looked away.  
  
"Well...it's late. I think I'll go to bed." Standing up, she picked up her bag and started toward the stairs.  
  
"Yeah, me too," Ron said as he followed her across the common room. As she began to climb the steps, he realized he didn't want her to go, not yet. "Hermione." She stopped and turned back to him.  
  
"Er...I wish we could have gone to Hogsmeade together. And I wish I had gotten you something for Valentine's Day."  
  
She smiled. "That's all right, Ron. You gave me that nice perfume for Christmas. And I gave you a homework planner," she said with a grin.  
  
"That was nice, too. And I use it." She looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Well...sometimes I use it." When she continued to look at him, he finally gave in. "All right, all right--it's under my bed."  
  
She laughed and came toward him. "That's what I thought." She hugged him tightly, and for once he had enough presence of mind to hug her back. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said as she stepped back.  
  
"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione." He watched her quickly climb the stairs to her dormitory, then turned and started up his own stairs.  
  
Harry opened his eyes and looked sleepily at Ron. "Okay. You two had still not admitted your feelings for each other on Valentine's Day. When exactly did it happen?"  
  
"Believe it or not, it happened on the night after the battle in the Department of Mysteries, while we were in the infirmary together. We just finally told each other how we felt. And that was that."  
  
"And that was that. In other words, you're not going to tell me everything," Harry said, grinning.  
  
Ron looked at him sheepishly. "What can I say, Harry? I love her. And for some reason, she loves me."  
  
Harry yawned and took off his glasses, putting them on the night stand. "Well, I really am happy for you two. But you could have told me." He lay back on his pillow.  
  
"I know, we should have. I'm sorry. But we really..." Ron trailed off as he heard Harry begin to snore. "Cure for sleeplessness, huh?" he laughed.  
  
Ron lay back in his bed, his arms folded behind his head. He hadn't told Harry everything that had happened in the infirmary. Some things were just private, not to be shared with others, not even your best friend. He smiled, remembering how he and Hermione had finally admitted their feelings for each other...  
  
Next chapter: What Ron didn't tell Harry. 


	7. At Last

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Harry Potter books, movies, merchandise, etc. If I did, I'd either be writing in my house in England or sunning myself in Acapulco.  
  
A/N: Thank you, everyone, for the very nice reviews. I appreciate each and every one of them.  
  
Ron lay back in his bed, his arms folded behind his head. He hadn't told Harry everything that had happened in the infirmary. Some things were just private, not to be shared with others, not even your best friend. He smiled, remembering how he and Hermione had finally admitted their feelings for each other...  
  
It was very late and all was quiet in the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey, after assuring her three patients that she would be nearby if they needed anything (Delores Umbridge had only stared at her), had gone to bed nearly three hours earlier. Ron lay awake, thinking of the day's events: the escape from Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, the mad rush to the Department of Mysteries, the battle with the Death Eaters. There were great gaps in his memory, gaps that had been partially filled in by his sister, Ginny. He had not seen Harry since they had all returned to Hogwarts, though he had been assured that Harry was safe and with Dumbledore.  
  
He looked over at Hermione, asleep in a bed not far from him, her chestnut hair spilling across her pillow. She had been so lifeless when he had helped Lupin bring her in and lay her on the bed, the slow rise and fall of her chest barely showing that she was still alive. Ron had sat on her bed watching her breathe, scarcely noticing that Madame Pomfrey was trying to treat his wounds. He was angry...angry at himself for not being there to protect her, angry at Antonin Dolohov for hurting her so badly. He would have gladly taken Dolohov's curse, over and over again, if it meant he would never have to see Hermione so pale and still.  
  
She had finally stirred and opened her eyes. Seeing him sitting on her bed, she had smiled weakly and squeezed his hand, and he had known she was going to be okay. Madame Pomfrey had bustled him away so she could tend to Hermione, and he had collapsed, exhausted, on his own bed. Now he watched her sleeping, marveling at how much he loved her (and wondering when he had finally admitted that to himself), and realizing how close he had come to losing her forever.  
  
As he watched, Hermione moaned. She opened her eyes and tried to sit up, then moaned again and clutched at her chest. Ron was at her side almost instantly.  
  
"Hermione? Are you all right? Are you in pain? Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?" he asked, looking at her anxiously.  
  
"No..no...I'm all right," she breathed, lying back on her pillow. "I just shouldn't try to move so suddenly." She rubbed her ribs dolefully. "Really...I'm fine," she insisted, seeing his worried face. "I had a bad dream and woke up too quickly." She rested for a few moments, then sat up experimentally, grimacing at the pain. With Ron's help, she propped herself up with pillows, and she was finally able to reach a sitting position.  
  
"There...that's better," she sighed, settling against the pillows and smiling at Ron. Then she caught sight of the deep welts on his forearms and her eyes widened in shock and concern. "Ron! What happened to you? Are you okay? Madame Pomfrey told me everyone was all right. What...?"  
  
"I'm fine," Ron interrupted. "I was apparently attacked by a brain, though I don't remember it. I...well, apparently, I was hit with some curse which made me act completely barmy. Ginny told me I actually called the brain to me...using 'accio'." He looked down at her bed, picking at a loose thread in the sheet, embarrassed at having to admit this to Hermione.  
  
"Oh, Ron. I'm so sorry. That must have been terrible." She hesitantly touched his arm, running her fingers gently over the welts. He looked up at her, surprised. "Does that hurt?" she asked quietly.  
  
He was distracted by her look of concern for him and by the pleasant tingling sensations she was causing with her touch. "No...that feels nice," he murmured. She eyed him questioningly, making him realize what he had said. He blushed, clearing his throat. "I mean...no, they don't hurt...too much."  
  
She smiled slightly, still looking worried. She quit fingering the welts, but left her hand on his arm. "Is everyone else really all right?"  
  
"Ginny, Neville, and Luna are fine; Madam Pomfrey took care of them in no time. Harry's here at Hogwarts, but I haven't seen him." He paused. "Hermione, Ginny told me that Sirius...that Sirius..." He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. "Sirius...died," he finished quietly.  
  
Hermione gasped softly, raising one hand to her mouth. "Oh, Ron...oh, poor Harry," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "His parents...now Sirius...oh, how terrible."  
  
"Yeah. I don't know what to say to him when I see him."  
  
Hermione shook her head as though she didn't know either. "How...?" she couldn't finish the question.  
  
"Ginny didn't know any details yet. She just knew he had...you know. I'm sure we'll find out."  
  
Hermione nodded. They sat quietly for a bit, thinking of the day, the fear they had faced, the loss of a friend.  
  
Ron took a deep breath, blowing it out forcefully. He started plucking uncomfortably at the loose thread again. "Hermione...I'm sorry I got separated from you and Harry. I should have been there. Everything was just so confusing. I was with you one minute, then you were gone. I was trying to find you when I was hit with that curse. I'm sorry. I let you down."  
  
"You didn't let us down, Ron. It's all right."  
  
"No, it's not. I should have been there...for Harry...and to protect you," he said sadly.  
  
"Ron...I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."  
  
"I know you are, Hermione. But...a guy should be there for the girl he...for the girl he..." he looked away, unable to finish. Why can't I just say it? he asked himself angrily. I almost lost her today...I need to tell her. Just what am I afraid of?  
  
Tears came to Hermione's eyes as she realized what he was trying to say. Putting her hand under his chin, she turned his face back to hers, meeting his eyes. "Please...just say it," she whispered, trailing her fingers across his cheek. "We've been dancing around this for so long...please...just finally say it."  
  
Ron swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and licked his lips. He moved closer to Hermione, taking a deep breath and summoning all his Gryffindor courage. "A guy should be there...for the girl he loves. I...I...love you, Hermione," he said quietly as a small sob came from Hermione and tears rolled down her cheeks. She grabbed him in a tight hug, not seeming to notice the pain this must be causing her, and buried her face against his neck. As he gently slid his arms around her waist, Ron could feel her tears against his skin. He was uncomfortably reminded of Cho crying when she had kissed Harry.  
  
"Hermione? I'm sorry. Shouldn't I have said that? Did I say something wr..." He broke off and closed his eyes, his breath catching as Hermione raised her head and kissed him gently just below his ear, then several times along his jaw line. Sitting up straight, she looked at him tenderly as he opened his eyes.  
  
"No, you didn't say anything wrong. You said everything right." She wiped her eyes and sighed happily. "I've been hoping...and waiting..."  
  
Ron drew a deep breath. "You have? So...er...you maybe...feel the same?" he asked anxiously.  
  
"Oh, Ron...yes...you know I do. Surely you know that." She brushed his hair back from his forehead lovingly. "You know I love you," she whispered.  
  
Ron felt his heart nearly stop at these words from her, and for a moment he was incapable of forming a coherent sentence. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Can I...er...can I...kiss you?" he finished almost inaudibly.  
  
Hermione nodded. Ron licked his lips again and leaned slowly closer to her, still gazing into her face. As he watched her close her eyes and raise her face to his, he thought, I'm finally going to kiss her. This is real, and I'm finally going to kiss her...really kiss her. He studied her, the faint freckles across her cheeks, her dark eyelashes, her lips. I love her so much. Then Ron, unable to contain himself any longer, pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. He felt Hermione tremble as she made a sound that was like a whimper. For a moment he was afraid that he was hurting her, but Hermione ran one hand up into his hair and held him close, responding to his kiss with fervor.  
  
They finally separated, breathless. Ron looked at Hermione questioningly, feeling relief when she smiled at him. With a sigh, Hermione snuggled close to him, her arms around his neck, her head on his shoulder. He held her, sitting with his head lying against hers, stroking her hair, still unable to believe that she loved him...Hermione loved him. After several quiet moments, Hermione made a sudden movement and exclaimed, "Harry!"  
  
Ron, still stunned by the turn of events and lost in his own thoughts, murmured, "who?" Then, realizing what she had said, he looked around the infirmary. "Where?"  
  
Hermione straightened up and looked at him. "No. Harry. We can't tell Harry about us yet."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
She sighed. "Because Harry has just gone through a life-altering event. He's lost Sirius. We need to keep everything else as normal as possible for him. He'll need us to be there for him...as friends."  
  
Ron looked at her doubtfully for a moment. "Hermione...are you maybe...embarrassed by me?" he asked sadly.  
  
"Oh, Ron, no...never," she rushed to assure him. "I'd stand on top of Gryffindor Tower and shout 'I love Ron Weasley' to the world. But right now, we need to be there for Harry. We can tell him later this summer, after the shock of all that has happened to him wears off." She smiled as Ron still looked doubtful. "We can still carry on with our new relationship. We'll just be discreet. But let's be there for our best friend. There will be plenty of time, too, just for us."  
  
Ron sighed. "I supposed you're right. Hermione...you really do...love me?" he asked, studying her face.  
  
She smiled and gave him a gentle, lingering kiss, sending chills down his spine. "Yes, Ron," she whispered. "I really do love you. I have for ages."  
  
He smiled then, reassured, and leaned toward her for another kiss...  
  
Ron was drawn from his memories by a squeak from a floorboard just outside his room. He hurried to his door and opened it, only to see Hermione in her dressing gown walking quietly down the hall toward the stairs. "Hermione?" he called softly, and she turned.  
  
"Hi," she whispered, coming back to him.  
  
"Hi. What are you doing up?"  
  
"I woke up. I had a nightmare."  
  
"Are you OK?"  
  
"I'm fine," she assured him. They were all getting very accustomed to nightmares. "I thought I'd go down and get some warm milk, then go back to bed. I came to your door and listened to see if you were awake, but I didn't hear anything. I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
"You didn't. Hermione...Harry knows about us."  
  
"He does? I thought we agreed we would tell him together, Ron. Why did you..."  
  
"He saw us...out in the front yard earlier."  
  
"Oh." She blushed slightly at the thought of Harry seeing her and Ron kissing. "Is he all right?"  
  
"He was mad at first, but only because we hadn't told him. We talked, and he's all right now. He fell asleep a little while ago."  
  
Hermione sighed, relieved. "Good. Poor Harry. I wish he would find somebody...somebody right for him. Not Cho," she said, making a face. "Somebody who will treat him like he deserves to be treated." She grinned mischievously at Ron. "Maybe I should have a talk with Ginny." Ron scowled. "Oh, really, Ron...can you honestly say you wouldn't want Harry and Ginny together?"  
  
Ron sighed and rolled his eyes. "No..." he admitted grudgingly.  
  
"That's what I thought." She smiled again and stepped closer to Ron, running her hands up his arms, making him shiver. "Since you're awake, could I maybe have another good night kiss?"  
  
"I think that can be arranged..."  
  
He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist as she put her arms around his neck and ran her hands up into his hair. As their lips met, he felt her almost sag against him, amazed that he had the power to make her weak in the knees. He felt the now-familiar stirrings that he always experienced when they kissed, though he had no intention of acting on them. He knew that if he did, Hermione would not be happy with him, and he wasn't about to mess things up now. He loved her deeply, and that was enough to make him respect her and wait patiently.  
  
Besides, he was getting used to cold showers.  
  
"Bloody hell, Hermione...you drive me crazy," Ron whispered as they parted, looking at her lovingly.  
  
She laughed softly. "I know." She stroked his face gently. "You'd better get some sleep. You look tired."  
  
"You think I can sleep now, do you?" he joked. She laughed again, and he smiled. He loved to make her laugh. "You're right...I am pretty tired," he admitted.  
  
"Then I'll see you in the morning." She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. As she pulled away, she murmured, "I love you." Then she was gone.  
  
Ron stood for a moment, looking after her, then he went back into his room, closing the door behind him. Harry was still sound-asleep, a good thing, as Ron knew he was often plagued with terrible nightmares that kept him awake all night. Ron settled back into his bed, thinking of Hermione and Harry, their friendship, and their future.  
  
As he drifted off to sleep, the feel of Hermione still in his arms, he knew that the future for the three of them was uncertain and sure to have terrible moments. But for now...well, the present was pretty good. 


End file.
